A Lonely Road
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Remus can't stand to think that he's completely alone. All he needs is to see one glimpse of recognition in Frank or Alice's eyes. Warnings for mentions of past torture, permanent mental illness, drinking, depression, and slight language.


**A/N: Hey y'all! So, I've wanted to write this for a while, and… here it is! Written for Hogwarts. Other prompts listed below. :)**

 **Magical and Mundane Literature Task 5: Write about a character suffering from amnesia.**

 **Word Count: 2089**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.**

 **WARNINGS: Mentions of past torture, permanent mental illness, drinking, depression, and slight language.**

 **Enjoy!**

Remus took another swig of his beer, ignoring the burn as it barreled down his throat. The lights of the pub around him shone dimly, much like his spirit. It was Halloween again; the Muggle children in the city were all out trick-or-treating and the wizarding world was celebrating the one-year anniversary of Voldemort's downfall. Remus was drowning his grief in alcohol, and he didn't plan on leaving the pub anytime soon.

There had been a time when Halloween was his favorite holiday. He could remember glowing jack-o-lanterns, releasing live bats into the Great Hall, and enchanting bed sheets to float around like ghosts. The people he'd done those things with were gone now—dead or imprisoned. All that was left was Remus. All _he_ had left was his half-empty pint—and it wasn't his first.

But now there were no smiles hidden in the darkness, nor was there any joy in the fear. All that remained were painful memories. They shattered him, but he couldn't fall apart.

Remus glared at his knees, his amber eyes unfocused and cheeks flushed. He hated Halloween now that the people he used to share it with were gone. James, Lily, Peter, and—

Remus stopped that thought with another large swallow.

Some time later Remus left the pub, out of money. He was always careful to only bring with him the amount of money he could afford losing, because he knew that once he started drinking, he wouldn't stop. He didn't use to spend his money so wastefully, but last Halloween was something he wanted to forget. Head buzzing, Remus walked down the street, careful not to run into any kids in costumes. He eventually reached his apartment building and paused by the door, willing his hands to stop shaking. Even with all the alcohol in his system, he couldn't suppress the memories trying to resurface. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown locks and sighed.

When he looked up again, a big black dog was standing before him, staring unblinkingly. Remus watched as it shifted its weight slightly and then disappeared into the thickening crowd.

Most wizards would alarmed to be visited by the Grimm, but Remus had learned that the omen only appeared after one of his pub visits. Part of him wished that it wasn't just a drunken hallucination; the other part reminded him that Harry might need him one day. Truthfully, Remus thought Harry was the only reason he was still walking the earth—he'd given up on himself a long time ago.

"Trick or treat!"

Remus looked down, startled, to see a toddler holding a bag half-filled with sweets out to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus spotted the child's mother hurrying over, an embarrassed apology on her lips. Remus looked back down at the little boy and bit his lip. The child looked so much like what he suspected Harry would look like now—black hair, a wide smile, and happy eyes. For a moment, Remus lost himself in _what could have been_ —this was Harry asking for a treat, and Lily was laughing at her eager boy. James was grinning ear-to-ear, Peter was taking a million photos, and Sirius—

Remus shook his head, banishing the images. There was no use dreaming now. Still, he couldn't stand to send the boy away empty-handed. He crouched down shakily, ashamed of his lack of balance, and smiled as best he could. He discreetly flicked his wand, transfiguring a nearby rock into a Muggle race car. He held it out to the little boy.

"This is all I have," he murmured quietly. "Is that all right with you?"

The boy nodded gleefully, taking the little blue toy in his chubby fists and running off to show his mother. Remus watched him go, wondering if Harry was out trick-or-treating with his aunt and uncle. He hoped so; the boy hadn't been able to go the previous two Halloweens he'd been alive.

The mother waved at him in thanks, and Remus nodded back. Then he went up to his apartment, ready to sleep off the alcohol.

The next day, Remus woke with a hell of a hangover. He groaned in bed, pulling the pillow over his face. His head was pounding painfully, and his stomach was in knots. After a few minutes, he slowly sat up, his brown hair rumpled and stuck to his forehead with sweat. His skin was pale and clammy, and he stumbled over to the toilet. He was sick for a few minutes, and when he'd finished vomiting, he got dressed shakily and downed some water.

He was about to dress for work before he remembered that he'd been let go the previous day. Remus frowned, sitting down in a kitchen chair. He'd have to look for another job soon, but he knew he shouldn't start looking while he was hungover. He sighed, dropping his head in his hands. He wished that James was there—Prongs never would have let him sink into such a slump. Now that there wasn't anything to do, it was harder to motivate himself. There were days when he didn't see the point in getting out of bed.

Remus ran a hand over his face and looked out the window. His mind, like it always was when he didn't have something to occupy him, was whirling with the bleak truths. _You are alone. Your friends are dead. There is no one left who needs you. No one would notice if you just—_

Remus slammed his fist down on the table, his shoulders shaking. He wouldn't go down that road again. He couldn't be completely alone. There had to be someone alive who still remembered him.

His amber eyes drifted over to the mantle above the fireplace, where there were several pictures from his school days and time in the Order. His brain counted off as his eyes scanned every face. _Marlene, dead; Dorcas, dead; Fabian, dead; Gideon, dead; Benjy, dead; Frank—_

 _Alive._

Remus stared at the photo from Frank and Alice Longbottom's wedding day with wide eyes. They were alive. They were hurt, might never recover, but they were _alive._

And maybe, just maybe, they would remember him.

* * *

Remus nodded impatiently at the Healer in front of him. They had been over the procedures a million times; he knew not to expect much from the Longbottoms. All he wanted was a flicker of recognition, a hint that they weren't gone. He didn't even expect them to recall his name.

"Mr. Lupin, please." The Healer looked haughtily down at him. "It is important that you do not disturb the other patients."

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the dark-haired man; it was much easier than it would have been a few years ago, when James and Peter were still alive. The others had always brought out the most fire in him, and though most of that was gone now, it hadn't been completely doused. "Of course. I'll only speak to Frank and Alice."

The Healer looked at him doubtfully a moment more, taking in his patched robes and worn appearance, before reluctantly opening the door.

Remus entered calmly, scanning the room for Frank and Alice. He spotted them, and his heart leapt into his throat. He waited for the Healer to leave before running over to them.

His hands shook from nerves; there was a reason he hadn't visited them since they had first been admitted to St. Mungo's. It was painful to see two of the most wonderful, lively people he'd ever known so strongly resemble blank slates. Still, he hoped that after a year in the Healers' care that they had regained a little of themselves.

Alice turned to face him when she heard him approaching, and Remus' steps faltered. Her hair was white and wispy, and her face was drawn and pale. Remus tried to find a shadow of the round-faced, cheerful woman he had known so well, but couldn't.

He swallowed thickly, trying to smile. "Alice," he said softly. "It's me. Remus."

Her dark eyes flickered up to meet his, but dropped right back down again. There was none of the light that had been there a year ago—only a blissful blankness. She began humming softly to herself, and Remus' chest tightened at the sound; Alice had always loved singing. She began to shuffle away towards her bed, and Remus hurried after her.

"Alice, you know me," he said a bit desperately. "You used to help me with Herbology, back in school."

Alice smiled fleetingly up at him, and then rummaged around in her bedside table drawer.

"We used to get butterbeer together," he told her. "We'd go to Honeydukes nearly every Hogsmeade visit. I held your _son._ "

She didn't even turn around.

His throat thick, Remus gently grabbed her hand. But it was so cold—cold and limp, not at all containing the comforting warmth it used to be—he dropped it like it had burned him, watching as it fell back to her side. Remus stumbled backwards as Alice pulled out a piece of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, unwrapping it and throwing away everything except the wrapper. She held it in her hands, running her slim fingers over the sugary sheet. Remus turned away, her humming almost mocking him. He hurried over to the next bed, praying that Frank had fared better than his wife.

"Frank?" Remus croaked. "Frank, please."

The man in front of him didn't turn around from where he was staring out the window, so Remus approached him. He moved in front of Frank, searching for something inside his eyes that had been missing in Alice's. He reeled back when he saw what was there—nothing. Alice's had held just a little bit of identity, a sign that she was still alive, but Frank's were just… blank.

Remus looked at his old friend's frowning lips, his dead eyes, his head of grey hair; this was not the man he'd known. Frank's head turned slightly to the right, so he could stare back out the window. There was no acknowledgement, no recognition.

Remus turned away, trembling. They couldn't be gone. They had been his last chance! Without them, how was he supposed to move on? How was he supposed to carry hope within him? Who was he if there was no one left who needed him?

 _Who did he have left to lean on?_

He immediately felt guilty for being so selfish; Frank and Alice had lost so much more than he had. Still, the waves of sorrow crashing over him were threatening to pull him down and drown him.

"Alice," he gasped. "Alice, please. Think of Augusta, think of Neville!" _Think of me._

She walked past him, like he didn't exist. She walked over to the window where Frank was, pausing a second to look out of it. She didn't spare a Frank a glance.

They didn't remember him, but worse than that they couldn't recognize each other. Their personalities, their laughter, their light and love… it was all gone. All that remained to show what they once were to each other were the rings that sat on their fingers.

Remus ran so quickly out of the room, he didn't see Alice move to Frank's bedside table to deposit the gum wrapper in a tall pile.

Remus' stomach was churning. They were as good as dead—he was alone—he was _always_ left to die alone—

He was sick in an alleyway, and he stood there for a while longer, shaking and panting. Frank and Alice were dead. Was he dead? If there was no one left to take notice of his life, how could he be alive?

Remus dropped to his knees and groaned. He would have, in that moment, given anything to feel loved again.

Suddenly, he felt eyes on him. He lifted his head slowly to see the Grimm staring back at him once more.

"Is this where I'm supposed to run for my life?" he asked hoarsely. "Are you even real, or are you here to mock me by dangling relief in front of my face?" His lips turned up in a snarl. "Well? _Are you?"_

The Grimm didn't move.

"I won't let you chase after me," Remus whispered. "If anything happens to Harry… I'm coming after _you_."

The Grimm trotted away, leaving Remus laughing so hard tears streamed down his face. He was alone once more; not even death wanted him.

But like always, he stood up again and just _lived._

 **A/N: Other prompts:**

 **Writing Club:**

 **Character Appreciation: 7. (word) haughty**

 **Disney Challenge: Songs 1. This is Halloween — Write a story set on Halloween**

 **Cookie's Crafty Corner: 7. Write about a character that dies in canon (BONUS)**

 **Lyric Alley: 6. In a beautiful world**

 **Ami's Audio Admirations: 13. Living Dead Girl - Rob Zombie — write about an unhealthy obsession or habit**

 **Sophie's Shelf: 7. (event) Halloween**

 **Lo's Lowdown: Characters 8. Balthazar — Write about someone who really hates something popular**

 **Bex's Basement: 3. Time Warp, by Tim Curry — Write about someone losing themselves in a fantasy.**

 **Film Festival: 25. (dialogue) "Is this where I'm supposed to run for my life?"**

 **Autumn Funfair:**

 **Bingo: 66. The Grimm (3)**

 **Gris-Gris Bag:**

 **(character) Alice Longbottom**


End file.
